


The floor is breaking

by ccm1822



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccm1822/pseuds/ccm1822
Summary: Azula usually had poor mental health, but this time sure took the cake.-Azula POV showing her anxiety, and negative feelings about everything.
Relationships: Azula & Mai & Ty Lee, Azula & Mai (Avatar), Azula & The Gaang (Avatar), Azula & Ty Lee (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Mai & Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	The floor is breaking

The floor was crumbling under Azula’s feet. Well, not really, if it had been she could of easily fought of whatever earth bender was doing it. The floor she was speaking of was the one she used to hold herself up. To keep her carefully detailed demeanor intact. And right now, it was breaking down, and she could feel her true self slipping through the gaps. Her true self wasn’t much nicer, or much better, in fact Azula thought it was worse. She thought it was weak. It had never been this bad before, she could always stop it, at least for the most part. She felt insane, even more than usual. It hurt, a deep ache leaking out from her chest. ‘I need to compose myself.’ She thought. 

This thought did nothing, but make it worse. She looked down at her hands, wondering if they were real. Wondering if she was real. Wondering who she was. If the weak part of her was the real her, how could she crush it, without killing her self in the process. In a way, she already had killed her self. Through carefully putting up wall, after wall, and chipping away at who she had been. Maybe the thing slipping through the cracks was just a hollow shell. Did it even matter if she let it out? Azula felt herself begin to cry. Looking in the mirror, she thought that she didn’t look like someone you would want to comfort. She looked like pure rage. A rabid dog, finally being uncaged. A sickly grin spread across her face as she stopped crying. She had been wrong, the thing inside her wasn’t weakness. Azula has gotten rid of that long ago. It was rage. Rage at her father, her friends, and everyone who had made her father think she wasn’t enough. Rage at everyone who had left her. It boiled through her, and she unconsciously began to make blue sparks at her fingertips. 

“I. Hate. You. All.” She said, in a steady low voice. 

It wasn’t true. As angry as she was at every thing, and everyone, she didn’t hate them. If she hated her friends, she wouldn’t miss them. If she hated her father, she wouldn’t do anything to be good enough for him. The only thing she hated was herself, and being abandoned. Whether it was emotionally like her father, or physically like Ty Lee, Zuko, and Mai. 

Her father had raised her to be better, and so better she had to be. 

And it was better to feel rage, than sadness. Better to hate, than cry. 

And she felt the floor crumble away, killing everything she used to be in the process. Killing every part of her she used to want, even though it was weak. Azula let go, finally excepting that she had to be someone else to be good enough. 

And when she stared into her own eyes, she recognized nothing inside of them. 

They felt hollow. 

A smirk covered her face, just like the one she always put on for show. Finally, she was empty. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the nothingness she felt. It had been washed out by the rage, and in its place it was replaced with a kind of nothingness. And a calm clarity that she was nothing. That Azula was not a real person. She was a mask, put together, and torn apart. And since she was fake, Azula could remove all the parts that bothered her. All the parts that she had kept out of a small feeling of necessity. But she now knew, the only thing Azula needed was power, and to be the best. 

She did not need sadness.

She did not need joy. 

She did not need friends.

She did not need her brother.

She did not need to be seen as good.

And she did not need to be herself.

What Azula needed was simple. And subconsciously she knew she would never get it. Her father’s love. 

And since she would never have it. She settled for second best. His tolerance. 

Rage would be the only part of her left, and it would eventually kill her. Inside, and out. 

As a fire lit in Azula’s hand, and heart. She decided it was worth it. 

Or at least she thought it was.


End file.
